Secrets of the Red Seven

I've Moved

2008-02-18T09:10:00.007-05:00

Dear Loyal Readers (all four of you),

I sort of regret to inform you that, as of today, I'm putting "Secrets of the Red Seven" on hold. But it's only a "sort of" regret, because I'm not actually LEAVING, I'm just sort of ... moving.

A solo artist no longer, I've just joined a band. And we rock!

From now on, I'll be posting at Jungle Red with good friend Maine Gay. The idea is to maintain a presence in the blogosphere without posting four or five times a week, which was getting exhausting. I'm very excited about the new blog, and hope you'll stop by and say hello.

If I'm currently on your blogroll, I'd love to stay there -- just please note that you can now find me at http://sylviafowler.blogspot.com/ ...

Goodbye, but not really.

Cheers, all.
Red Seven

Friday Jukebox, 02.15.08

2008-02-15T09:59:00.002-05:00

Remember that great moment in the last episode of Six Feet Under when Claire is driving away in her Prius and this fantastic song starts playing?

Um, yeah.

The Oscar Rush

2008-02-13T13:00:00.009-05:00

So, around this time every year, I scramble to see as many movies that have garnered major Oscar nominations as I can. Because Oscar Night is practically a holiday in my household, and I like to be well-informed. Nothing makes me happier than hearing a list of nominees being read off and having an informed opinion based on seeing all of the movies listed.

Hi, I'm a big nerd.

So the other night, I watched Elizabeth: The Golden Age. The movie didn't get such great reviews, but never you mind, the marvelous Cate Blanchett got a Best Actress nomination, so I didn't have much choice, right?

Anyway, the movie was a lot better than I thought it'd be. It was entertaining enough, and full of plot, including the arrival of the dashing Walter Raleigh (a man with perfectly white, straight teeth in 1585, but whatever, Clive Owen is gorgeous), the execution of Mary, Queen of Scots (who arrived at her beheading in a fabulous red dress -- love her), and the growing threat of the Spanish Armada (led by the fanatical King of Spain, who was oddly hot in a psycho-religious-fanatic kind of way). The problem is, it didn't seem to be about anything, or at least nothing I could discern. In the "making-of featurette," the director says that the film is about the responsibility that comes with great power, and apparently no one told him that Spider-Man has the same theme, so ... sorry, Shakur -- been there. Still, it was lovely to be reminded that over four hundred years ago, the most powerful head of state in all the world was, in fact, a woman. (And for those who have difficulty reading between those lines: Go Hillary. I haven't given up on you yet.)

Predictably, Cate was amazing; she's an actor with an almost annoying habit of being amazing in nearly everything she does, but I'm still rooting for Marion Cotillard for the win.

Over the weekend, I watched The Assassination of Jesse James by the Coward Robert Ford. Casey Affleck is nominated for Best Supporting Actor for this movie, which still wins the exclusive 2008 Red Seven Award for awesomest title ever.

And the title is even more awesome once you've seen the movie. No, seriously.

A couple of things add to the awesomeness of the title. The first is that the title totally gives away the ending. It's not like the movie begins with Robert Ford bumping off Jesse James and the rest of the film deals with the aftermath of the killing. Rather, the movie takes a long time to explore Jesse James both as a man and as a legend, and to chart the path that Robert Ford takes -- starting off as an awkward boy who loves Jesse James above all other things to someone who is not only able, but willing, to kill the outlaw superstar. And the other piece of awesomeness about the title is in that word "coward." The movie plays a lot with this notion of cowardice and bravery. Whether or not Ford really is a coward is very much up for debate. On the one hand, turning a gun on Jesse James takes what Grandpa once called "guts," and on the other -- well, I won't ruin it for you. You already know the ending, and that's enough for now.

As for Casey -- he hasn't got a chance in hell. He's very deserving, but Javier Bardem is totally going to win; it's the closest thing to a sure thing in the entire slate. However, he's very good in this movie, even if he was nominated in the wrong category (how his role is deemed a "supporting" one is a bit of a mystery to me, although I suspect it has much to do with the facts that a) Casey is better known for being someone else's little brother and b) he's sharing the screen with Brad Pitt have a lot to do with it). His portrait of Robert Ford is complex and specific, and not one I'll soon forget. I am surprised that Brad Pitt didn't get more kudos for his work; the "Jesse James" of this movie is a lot more human than legend, and Pitt moves back and forth between proud and humbled and larger-than-life and paranoid and charming and sleazy in a way that defies reason and still makes sense. It's a great performance. Plus, he totally dyed all the blonde out of his hair for this movie, which is practically the same thing as standing on a box and begging to be taken seriously for once. Poor, poor Brad.

Unfortunately, I'm Not There (Cate again, Best Supporting Actress) and In the Valley of Elah (Tommy Lee Jones, Best Actor) are not yet available for viewing on DVD, so I'm not sure I'll get to see them before the Oscar ceremony on the 24th. There Will Be Blood (Daniel Day-Lewis, the favorite to win for Best Actor) is still in theatres, but oddly I still haven't worked up any desire to see it. However, Persepolis (Best Animated Feature) is still playing at my favorite little art-house theatre, so I hope to get to it soon.

In closing, thank God the writers' strike is over. Not only has it been way too long since my Ugly Betty fix, but there will actually be an Oscar ceremony this year. Now, the question is ... do I throw a party, or spend the evening live-blogging the whole thing? Decisions, decisions ...

Manic-Depressive Monday

2008-02-11T16:24:00.000-05:00

Working in my company's Dept. of Diversity, I'm often in the position of advocating new ways of working, ways that might be more inclusive of traditionally disenfranchised employees.

For instance, when advocating for working mothers, a topic that comes up a lot is "work/life balance," or the ability to satisfy the demands of one's non-professional life while still meeting the needs of your team and your clients. Something we push for a lot is the idea of telecommuting (which is corporate-ese for "working from home"), a solution which employees tend to love but managers tend to hate. Or moderately dislike, at the very least.

So, to help prove that telecommuting really can work, my team decided that each of us could choose one day a week that we would work from home. If it worked, they said, we'd make it a permanent policy. If not, we'd try to figure out why. Apparently, it worked; we've been doing this for the past five years.

Most people on my team picked Friday as their "work from home" day. When they're done working, their weekend starts immediately, without a commute through horrendous rush hour traffic standing in their way. Unforunately, I have a lot of classes and a standing meeting on most of my Fridays, so I picked Monday. It's a choice that works for me -- on Sunday night, when everyone is lamenting that the weekend is almost over and the morning rush hour is already making them tired, I know that all I have to do on Monday morning is roll out of bed, start the coffee, put on my PJ's and fuzzy slippers, and fire up the computer. Boom; I'm at work.

And yes, I can often be more productive at home than I am at the office. And I really enjoy facing the aformentioned horrendous rush hour traffic (DC is always in the Top 10 lists of horrendous commutes, always) four times a week instead of five.

But ... (cue the violins) ... most Mondays, I get lonely. Oftentimes, I spend my entire Monday with no interpersonal human interaction whatsoever, save the occasional phone call. And yes, it's relaxing -- almost as relaxing as prescription sleep medication. I'm a big time extrovert, and wasn't meant to stay home all day. Seriously, sometimes I get so languid I feel as though my joints are made of lead.

I know it's very little use complaining, that most people with the Monday-through-Friday-nine-to-five office job will not have much sympathy for me. And no, I don't plan on giving up my Monday at home anytime soon, which says something. But what also says something is that I'm actually looking forward to going to work tomorrow and communing with my fellow humans. Which never really happened before we started working from home one day a week.

Friday Jukebox, 02.08.08

2008-02-08T07:25:00.000-05:00

I feel like I've written about nothing but politics all week. Not exactly true, but close enough. And well ... about this time, every four years, it does seem to be everywhere you look.

Therefore, this Friday, I wanted to throw up a video that was decidedly apolitical.

You might then think that Indigo Girls are an odd choice. These are two women who tend to let their political feelings be known. But I don't know -- this song ("Little Perennials," from their most recent album, Despite Our Differences) is such a good listen. I play it on long car drives while I bounce and sing along -- and while there's likely many layers of meaning there that I could contemplate if I chose to ... mostly, it just makes me happy.

So there you go. Happy Friday.

Lizard Man is Out

2008-02-07T13:05:00.000-05:00

Mitt Romney, in a speech to CPAC:

"If I fight on in my campaign, all the way to the convention, I would forestall the launch of a national campaign and make it more likely that Senator Clinton or Obama would win. And in this time of war, I simply cannot let my campaign be a part of aiding a surrender to terror."

Whatever, Creepy Creeperson. Don't let the door hit your ass on the way out.

The Zero-Sum Game

2008-02-07T11:26:00.000-05:00

When John Edwards dropped out of the race last week, my first thought was, "Y'know, he was a swell guy."

My second thought was, "Holy merciful crap." And by that I meant, "This is going to be a historic year for us." And by that I meant that a major party nominee in the 2008 will be a woman or a person of color. We just don't know which yet.

The Democratic race has yet to be decided; as I predicted, both Barack Obama and Hillary Clinton are running strong, viable campaigns. Both sides claim "momentum," but realistically it could go either way.

One option I've heard repeatedly, on this blog and elsewhere, is the possibility that it could go both ways -- that is, an Obama/Clinton or Clinton/Obama ticket. One of them wins, picks the other as his/her running mate, and off we go to the races. It's a tempting fantasy, but I just don't think it's going to happen (and I'm not the only one).

Firstly, there's the very real possibility that these two really don't like each other. The campaign has been nasty at times, and though both Hillary and Barack have substantially dialed it down recently -- when it was ugly, it was fugly.

On the other hand, there have been numerous instances of Presidents picking Vice Presidents they weren't wild about in the name of political expediency. And yet, it's still important for these two people to work together. The good news is that, in terms of policy, there's barely any difference between Clinton and Obama. If one of them wins the nomination, the other could easily defer their different approaches to diplomacy and health care to the winner without having to rejigger their core principles at all.

But I think there's a deeper reason why this isn't likely to happen. Americans are famous for trying to pretend that race and gender are yesterday's issues, and they don't really matter anymore. And yet, ask many of the women supporting Hillary Clinton's campaign -- and if they're honest, they'll tell you that the idea of putting a woman in the Oval Office is inspiring to them, an event they thought they'd never witness. Ask Barack Obama's African American supporters the same question, and -- again, if they're honest -- you're likely to get a similar response.

Of course, the campaigns of both Obama and Clinton go beyond these groups; Obama has many white supporters while Clinton has earned the endorsement of many of the male persuasion. But I don't believe it's wise to deny the simple truth, that the opportunity to enter the history books is a primary motivator for many who've chosen one over the other within the Democratic party.

What, then, do you say to Obama's African-American supporters should Clinton win the nomination? Your time will come, but for now, shouldn't you be excited because your candidate gets to ride the coattails of the white lady all the way to the White House? The statement is just as difficult when posed to the women who have their heart set on putting Hillary in the Oval Office. We can elect a woman later, you'll say, but for now she can play second fiddle to a man -- just as so many have before her.

Like it or not, there will be a major voting bloc within the Democratic party -- a large group of a women, or a large group of African-Americans -- whose hearts will break when this primary race is over. I'm thinking that if one were to take the "running mate" slot on the other's campaign might just serve to rub salt in the wound -- that people would have an easier time jumping from one train to the other if the candidate they originally backed were no longer part of the picture, not a constant visible reminder of a second place finish.

And, of course, there are other contingencies at play. Hillary Clinton commands attention wherever she goes, largely on her own merit but mostly because of her history with the American people; I'm not sure that she'd be an effective Vice President. Liberals have long voiced the opinion that Dick Cheney has been running the country for the past seven years in disguise as the VP; we say this because it serves to undermine George W. Bush's authority (and we love that $#!t -- be honest). President Barack Obama doesn't need to be saddled with the same rumors, that the first African-American president is secretly taking his marching orders from the person who is supposed to be second-in-command.

Looking at the other possibility, the Clintons are part of a vast political network within the party. I've heard the concerns about her electability (believe me; I've heard them over, and over, and over) -- but just as it was unwise to underestimate the machine that allowed Bush to take two terms in the White House, I wouldn't count out the Clinton network so fast. That's a network that can make things happen, including getting Hillary a desk in the Oval Office. But that network is nothing more than a lot of relationships cultivated over a lot of years. My point is that Hillary Clinton likely owes a lot of favors to a lot of people, and Barack Obama is probably not very high on her list.

So, if not each other, who might each pick? Someone from the South, I shouldn't wonder -- that's a pretty typical strategy for any Northern candidate to adopt. It didn't work for John Kerry, but that's okay; I think Kerry lost the election for Kerry; I've never held John Edwards responsible for that. Whoever it is, it should be someone who provides some balance. Someone who really knows how Washington works would be good for Obama; likewise, someone (a governor?) who's never before worked on the Hill might be good for Clinton. And I'm guessing that Clinton will likely choose a man and that Obama will likely choose a white person, to signify that whole "uniting" thing that the country seems hungry for this year. Unfortunately, I don't think they'll pick each other.

Even though a part of me hopes that I'm wrong about that.

Dobson on McCain

2008-02-06T16:41:00.000-05:00

With a hat tip to Towleroad, I humbly present evanglical leader Dr. James Dobson and his views on the candidacy of Arizona Sen. John McCain (R):

I am deeply disappointed the Republican Party seems poised to select a nominee who did not support a Constitutional amendment to protect the institution of marriage, voted for embryonic stem cell research to kill nascent human beings, opposed tax cuts that ended the marriage penalty, has little regard for freedom of speech, organized the Gang of 14 to preserve filibusters in judicial hearings, and has a legendary temper and often uses foul and obscene language.

I am convinced Sen. McCain is not a conservative, and in fact, has gone out of his way to stick his thumb in the eyes of those who are. He has sounded at times more like a member of the other party. McCain actually considered leaving the GOP caucus in 2001, and approached John Kerry about being Kerry’s running mate in 2004. McCain also said publicly that Hillary Clinton would make a good president. Given these and many other concerns, a spoonful of sugar does not make the medicine go down. I cannot, and will not, vote for Sen. John McCain, as a matter of conscience.

But what a sad and melancholy decision this is for me and many other conservatives. Should Sen. McCain capture the nomination as many assume, I believe this general election will offer the worst choices for president in my lifetime. I certainly can’t vote for Hillary Clinton or Barack Obama based on their virulently anti-family policy positions. If these are the nominees in November, I simply will not cast a ballot for president for the first time in my life. These decisions are my personal views and do not represent the organization with which I am affiliated. They do reflect my deeply held convictions about the institution of the family, about moral and spiritual beliefs, and about the welfare of our country.

Woo to the hoo. Awe to the some. (Not "foul and obscene language"!! Heaven forfend! Oh, and fuck you, too.)

Of course, McCain could always ask Mike Huckabee to be his running mate, as Lorraine suggested earlier today. However, unless McCain himself repudiates his earlier positions, I don't think it will win social conservatives like Dobson back. And in the meantime, there go a lot of moderate Republicans over to our side (and yes, I do believe they'd choose a Democrat over Mike Huckabee, no matter who he or she may be).

I was talking to Cowbell on the phone while the Super (Duper!) Tuesday results were coming in. I dialed right about the time that Romney's drones were chanting in the whitest call-and-response of all time and it was freakin' me the hell out. Anyway, the conversation was mostly on politics last night, as we were both keeping the TV screen within eyesight throughout. And once we finished talking about how creepy Mitt Romney is, we spoke of Hillary and Barack and how, whichever way the wind blows for the rest of the primary season, 2008 will be the year that either the first person of color or the first woman led a major party nomination in a Presidential election. We talked about how cool that is. And we agreed that America's not really ready for it. And we talked about the fact that we'll probably win, anyway.

Because if we weren't coming off of two terms of the most disastrous administration in our nation's history, neither a woman nor a person of color would have a prayer. If we weren't facing off with a Republican party who doesn't know who the hell they are any more, there's no way a woman or a person of color could win. But we are, they don't, and we will.

Yes, there are some people in this country who hate Hillary Clinton (Cowbell and I also talked about the sudden disappearance of "Rodham" last year). And yes, if Barack Obama is our candidate, he's going to have all kinds of mud thrown his way as well. These people fight dirty. You'd think they'd be shamed by "Willie Horton" campaign of '88 or the "Swift Boat" affair of '04, but they're not because it worked -- and they'll do it again.

But we have the ability to fight back this time, if we choose to. We're strong and they're weak -- so weak, it seems, that they might actually just stay home. Thank you, Dr. Dobson. Why don't you spend the next four years building an American God Party with Fred Phelps so we can fracture the conservative base permanently? That'd be just dandy, thanks.

Super Duper Pooper Scooper Tuesday

2008-02-05T15:48:00.000-05:00

So, it's finally here: Super Tuesday.

(Yawn.)

Okay, so I guess it's sort of a big deal. More states are holding primaries on the same day than any other day in our nation's history. The thing is, in any other primary year, this day would be decisive. This year, we're going to end the day much as we began it, at least on the Democratic side -- with Hillary Clinton and Barack Obama still very much in the race, with not much room between them.

Things could be a little more exciting on the Republican side, mostly because of the whole "winner-take-all" rules around assigning delegates for each state. Whoever is declared the "winner" in California? New York? Jersey? That's big news.

Because the Democrats are the party of fairness and equality, we split the delegates by Congressional district. It's more equitable, but not quite as dramatic.

What is very cool is that, for the very first time in my adult (voting) life, candidates will actually be paying attention to where I live during the primary season. Barack Obama just opened up a campaign office in Prince George's County, Maryland; Hillary Clinton will be hosting a rally in Northern Virginia tomorrow night. The "Potomac Primary" might actually matter this year. And that's kinda awesome.

I'll cast my vote (for Hillary) next Tuesday with a sense that it actually matters. Obama is clearly going to win DC, but perhaps my vote and a few thousand others will sneak in at least one delegate from the District.

And (I feel like I've spoken and/or typed these words a million times since January), if my candidate doesn't win, I'll gladly hop on board the Obama train and ride it all the way to the general election in November with no regrets. I only hope that all of those people who are currently campaigning for Obama feel the same way about a united Democratic party should Clinton eventually get the nomination. We've got two exceptional (and historic) candidates on our side, both of whom would be ten times the President that John McCain, Mike Huckabee, or Mitt Romney would be.

C'mon, progressive party people ... let's not snatch defeat from the jaws of victory, shall we?

Ch-Ch-Ch-Ch-Changes

2008-02-04T10:18:00.000-05:00

So, about a week ago, my friend Sallie forwarded me an e-mail that she had received from a friend. Usually hating the e-mail forwards, this one was intriguing, and actually got me to thinking.

The question in the subject line was, "What have you changed your mind about? Why?"

And that question scared the crap outta me.

It seems that somewhere along the line, changing one's mind has become a sign of weakness or mental instability. After all, the worst thing that a politician can do is "flip-flop" around an important issue. Of course, this might not be such a new thing; even in Shakespeare's day, to be called "inconstant" was nothin' but an insult.

And yet, any logical person can predict the dire consequences in store for someone who never changes his or her mind about anything. And so, when asked what I've changed my mind about (and why), I wanted to have a really good answer. And yet I struggled just the same; somehow, I couldn't bring myself to admit to a flip-flop.

In her e-mail, Sallie answered the question this way:

I've changed my mind about emotions. I've always viewed emotion as a bad thing. Something that should be suppressed. Every time tears welled up, I hated it. I would always say to myself, "What are you doing? This is stupid. Why are you crying? But I wouldn't wait to even hear my answer to these questions. It could be from my upbringing; My father is German/Scottish descent. My mother is Scotch/Irish descent. Those cultures by nature do not show much emotion outwardly compared to other cultures--maybe it has something to do with the cold environment of those countries. Who knows?!

[But] I've changed my mind and now am on the journey to embrace my emotions (all of them) and learn from them instead of suppressing them. It doesn't serve anyone else and it doesn't serve me.

... If emotions are catalysts for action and we don't value emotions, then does that mean that we don't take action or we take action only if it's rational?

Pretty good answer, I thought.

Her e-mail also linked to a website where you can learn that Alan Alda changed his mind about God, twice; that Brian Eno once believed that Maoism sounded like a nifty idea, albeit from a long distance; and that Helena Cronin has come to the conclusion that men really are smarter -- and also a lot stupider.

And yet, I still have difficulty answering the question for myself. I used to believe that I was heterosexual, true. But my coming out wasn't so much me changing my mind as it was reality giving me a big slap in the face. And yes, I used to call myself a Catholic and now, in most circles, consider myself to be an agnostic, but now I wonder if that was ever genuiune belief or just going through the motions.

The answer I gave to Sallie, the weekend before last, over dinner at our favorite Thai place, was that I definitely changed my mind about abortion rights. I used to be fervently anti-abortion; I believed that the procedure wasn't just comparable to murder -- it was murder. And that those that pursued abortions and those that provided them should be locked up, as any murderer should.

Then, I met someone who confided in me that she'd had an abortion once. She was thirteen, and the father was an older, married man who had seduced her or abused her, take your pick (she picked the former, I choose the latter). And the issue was suddenly a lot more complicated. These days, I'm just as fervently pro-choice. I don't clap my hands with glee whenever I hear that a woman has received or will procure an abortion, but I'm grateful to live in a society where she has the freedom to map her own reproductive destiny. And when someone considers an abortion but decides to carry the fetus to term, I'm happy that she had options to consider and I have faith that, for her, the choice was the right choice and not simply the only choice.

So, okay ... that's an answer. And it's a true statement; I really was adamantly opposed to abortion at one point in my life and I really did change my mind. And yet, my answer dissatisfied me. It was too specific, not big enough somehow.

And it occurs to me that the abortion question is simply part of a bigger picture, that the overarching theme of my life is walking away from self-centeredness and self-delusion toward self-awareness and empathy. I believe that I (and we) must recognize that other people aren't just like me (us) in every detail and that these differences should be seen and named and valued if I'm (we're) ever going to truly understand you (each other).

Okay, so that's more like it -- except that, for me, it's not a one-stop shop. This is a process that must have begun somewhere (though for the life of me I can't name the time or place) but won't end for a while, if ever.

So ... what about you? What have you changed your mind about? Why?

The World's Gone Mad Today and Good's Bad Today

2008-02-03T10:11:00.000-05:00

I debated whether I should even open this up for discussion, because I hate giving an attention whore like Ann Coulter any more press than she already gets.

But when she insists that she'll campaign for Hillary Clinton if John McCain is the Republican nominee, it simply gets one's attention.

To be fair, she's not speaking up for Sen. Clinton in the least, but is simply on an anti-John McCain tear, attempting to paint him as the most liberal candidate in the race (apparently, Ann has not consulted with my mother). She notes here that she still believes that Clinton is "creepy" and "dangerous," and that she'd "vote for the devil over John McCain" -- and in her world, that means that either Clinton or Obama will get her vote if McCain gets the Republican nomination.

These statements are simultaneously frightening and delightful for me. On the one hand, if anyone actually believed that Ann Coulter was endorsing a Democrat, nothing could be worse for the Democrats. However, Democrats as a rule (this is purely anecdotal data on my part, but nevertheless ...) are a fairly intelligent crowd, and know enough, one presumes, not to take anything Coulter says to heart. And at the same time, this reminds me just how fractured the Republicans are going into the 2008 race. I also find it delightful that a host on a Faux News program is finally noticing that Coulter has a few anger issues.

And what think you?

On Non-Traditional Casting

2008-02-02T10:39:00.000-05:00

When I was in college, I performed in (probably) 15 (or so) plays (give or take) with a really talented group of people. Or maybe I just believed we were talented at the time, and memory is more powerful than reality. Certainly some were more talented than others, but I do believe that when we were good, we were really, really good (he said, modestly).

But, as good as we were, the plays that we performed together weren't exactly "hot tickets" in the medium-sized city of Spokane, Washington. And for a city of 350,000 (or so) people, there weren't a lot of options. One professional theatre company, one well-regarded community theatre group, a couple of ragtag volunteer companies, and two colleges. And yet, no one who wasn't already affiliated with our college really ever came to see our shows.

In retrospect, the reason is pretty clear: we were a bunch of kids, aged 18 to 23, playing everything from Shakespeare to Arthur Miller to Eugene O'Neill. We played each other's fathers and mothers (in some cases, grandfathers and grandmothers) all the time, with the help of lots of white goop in our hair and inexpertly drawn lines on our faces. Luckily, my face didn't "age well" and I only rarely had to dip into the white hair goop, but when I played a scene with someone who was supposed to be my mother, more often than not she was younger than I.

In the "real world," we supposed, we wouldn't be asked to do this, and the thought both relieved us (no more white goop!) and disappointed us. After all, this very limited casting pool had allowed us to play some pretty phenomenal roles, and some of us actually did a decent job with them. And we were right -- in the "real world," you don't often see people playing characters of a different generation without a pretty good reason for it. And yet, the notion of "non-traditional casting" happens all the time.

For instance, S. Epatha Merkerson is currently getting rave reviews for her performance in Come Back Little Sheba on Broadway. She plays Lola, the quietly suffering wife of an alcoholic in uber-repressed 1950. Merkerson is African-American. Lola (a role originally played by Shirley Booth) is not.

That Merkerson is playing Lola on Broadway, and doing so brilliantly, is not a surprise to me. First of all, this kind of non-traditional casting has been done in the theatre for years, and is so commonplace that it often goes unnoticed. Secondly, Merkerson is a brilliant actor, much more talented than you'd be able to glean from her best-known work, as the all-business police lieutenant on Law & Order.

However, I will admit that I was surprised to learn, from a friend of mine who caught the play during its previews, that the rest of the cast of Come Back, Little Sheba is uniformly white. When I heard that Merkerson would be starring in a new Broadway production of William Inge's well-made, one-set play, I guess I just assumed that someone was mounting the show with an all-black cast (the way that Debbie Allen is doing with her upcoming Cat on a Hot Tin Roof, starring Terrence Howard, Anika Noni Rose, Phylicia Rashad, and James Earl Jones), or that the show would be wholly "non-traditional," with cast members of every ethnicity on stage together.
Instead, it's one African-American woman in the lead, surrounded by an all-white supporting cast. And, according to my friend, who's done a fair amount of anti-racist work in his time (suddenly I feel the need to defend him, though I'm not quite sure why), it was sort of distracting. He knew that Lola wasn't written as a black woman, but nontheless wondered if this production was going to address the issue of race in some way. It never did, and before long he settled in to watch the play. She was wonderful, he said -- perhaps not as glorious as some of the reviews suggested, but on the other hand, it was an early preview, and perhaps the show hit its stride later on.

I think it's wonderful that Merkerson is playing this role. As I said before, she's brilliant and is clearly doing a wonderful job. She shouldn't have been denied the chance to play Lola because of her race, especially when she has so much to offer an audience. And not having seen the play myself, perhaps I really shouldn't comment.

But I've been thinking about Merkerson and Come Back, Little Sheba for the past few days, and all because of a conversation I had with my office mate about a movie I had rented for Thursday night.

Because it's Oscar season, I'm on my annual mission to see every movie that's been nominated for anything, as well as all of the films and performances that critics claim were "snubbed" this year. And one snub that pretty much everyone I've read has agreed on was Angelina Jolie's performance in A Mighty Heart.

In the film, Jolie plays Mariane Pearl, the real-life wife of Daniel Pearl, the real-life journalist who was kidnapped by terrorists and savagely killed in Pakistan in 2002.

Mariane Pearl is a French woman of Afro-Cuban/Dutch heritage. In more common parlance, she is either bi-racial or a fair-skinned black woman. Angelina Jolie, on the other hand, is typically categorized as white (although she also apparently claims some Native American heritage as well). Not surprisingly, her decision to play Mariane stirred up a fair amount of controversy when the film was announced.

By the way, Angelina's performance in the movie (which I did see on Thursday as planned) is impeccable. Having now seen the film, I too am surprised that she wasn't nominated for an Oscar. But back to the discussion at hand: Angelina Jolie isn't the only woman who could have delivered a wonderful performance, and would a woman of color been a better choice?

Clearly, there are differences between casting Jolie as Mariane Pearl in a film and casting Merkerson in a revival of a 1950 play.

Firstly, Mariane Pearl (unlike Lola) is a real person. The film paints her as a brave heroine who endures tragedy and retains hope for the future and the desire for people with differences to connect and understand each other. In a culture that (still!) casts white people in the role of "hero" and people of color in the roles of crackhead, criminal, illegal alien, drug runner, rapist, scumbag, and miscreant, it's a little disappointing that the real-life heroism of a woman of color is being displayed to America with the "of color" bit taken out -- because people really do need to see that.

Secondly, this is a film and not a play. Others have played Lola before Merkerson took the role, and others will likely play Lola in years to come. I imagine that it will be a long time before anyone plays Mariane Pearl again. A Mighty Heart is a good film, but not one that's likely to be remade anytime soon, if ever.

Thirdly, and (of course) most importantly, there are issues of power and privilege at play here. Like it or not, it's different when a white person plays a person of color on stage or in a movie than when a person of color does the same with a white role. S. Epatha Merkerson won wide acclaim for her work in August Wilson's The Piano Lesson in 1990, and if anyone but a black woman ever plays Berniece again, there will be a howl of protest, as well there ought to be. In Hollywood and on Broadway, people of color have been historically underrepresented, and when white actors take roles that seem to be written for people of color, it seems to most people to be a continuation of that injustice.

And yet, I go back to what I said before: Angelina Jolie is wonderful in this film. For what it's worth (and it may not be worth a whole lot, depending on your perspective), Mariane Pearl was reportedly "thrilled" to learn that Angelina Jolie would be playing her, as she greatly "admires her work." Rolling Stone magazine calls it "her best performance, strong and true in every detail from Mariane’s accent ... to the strength she shows under fire."

When discussing the film with my office mate, she could accept the premise that Anglelina bought the rights to Mariane Pearl's memoir and could do with it what she wants. But she was also fairly adamant that there were a number of fair-skinned black women who could have played the role just as effectively -- and because of that, she wasn't going to seek out the film anytime soon.

Obviously, I did seek out the movie. I watched it. I didn't enjoy it, per se; it's a difficult film to watch for all the reasons you'd suspect, but I appreciated it immensely, and I appreciated Angelina Jolie's work most of all.

And still, I'm left with an ambiguous uneasiness about the whole thing. And that, as they say ... is that.

Friday Jukebox, 02.01.08

2008-02-01T08:39:00.000-05:00

In 1986, my family moved from Hawaii to Scotland. My father was now a Captain in the U.S. Navy, and was about to take the position of Commanding Officer of R.A.F. Edzell, a base built by the Royal Air Force of the U.K., but now almost entirely populated by American sailors and their families.

I was actually really excited about the move. Hawaii sounds fun, but I missed the four seasons, and was going through the dreaded "awkward phase" during my sophomore year of high school, feeling pudgy and pimply and not very inclined to stripping down to my shorts at the beach -- ever. Besides, this was the height of the New British Invasion. Everything about the U.K. was edgy and cool, particularly the music we listened to.

I loved my time in Scotland. I loved how the sun never went down during two weeks in summer and never came up during two weeks of winter. I loved walking through the glen on the way to Edzell Village, where for two pounds, I could purchase fish and chips, coated with salt and vinegar, served in wax and newspaper. Nothing tastes as good as that, to this day. And of course, the music I was exposed to there became a soundtrack to my youth.

In 1987, a band called Deacon Blue had a #1 hit and the album it came from, Raintown, hit #1 as well. This was a huge deal, because Deacon Blue was a Scottish band, and this hadn't happened to a Scottish band for a really long time.

And then there was another hit song from the album, then another, then another. Deacon Blue were like national heroes, and even though my friends and I were a bunch of American kids just camping out for a few years on foriegn soil, we jumped right into the hero worship.

When I returned to Deacon Blue a few years ago, it was amazing to me how many memories were captured in the lyrics and sounds of this record. There was more synthesizer than I recalled; in the height of Brit-Pop, Deacon Blue sounded more like a straight-up rock band, and I guess that's how I remembered them. But what I never forgot was the husband-and-wife vocalists, and how Ricky Ross's gravelly voice fits so perfectly with Lorraine McIntosh's sweet and soulful soprano.

I'm not sure that Deacon Blue ever really made it across the pond, and yet it seemed they were everywhere during those couple of years of my life. You can't find them anywhere on iTunes, and yet I'm always surprised when I play a Deacon Blue song on my stereo and no one knows all the words. I've heard that they reunited after a ten year split, released a greatest hits album, and went on a U.K. tour last year. I wish I could have been there to see it.

Senator SexyPants Drops Out

2008-01-30T12:11:00.000-05:00

So, John Edwards is dropping out of the race. And though I've given my political heart to another this primary season, I have to say that I'm sort of sad about this.

First of all, let's be real and honest for a moment. The man was smokin' hot. I'm sorry and it's shallow, but there it is. YUM.

Okay, I got that out of my system.

Secondly and more importantly, he was a good guy with some important ideas. As a nation, I feel like we owe John Edwards a debt of gratitude for bringing our collective attention to some important truths, particularly about the plight of the poor in this, the richest country in the world.

From today's Washington Post:

Edwards launched his campaign a year ago, also in New Orleans, where the slow rebuilding following Hurricane Katrina formed a fitting symbol for the issues around which he built his campaign. He focused on issues of poverty and economic inequality, couched in language of the "two Americas."

In summoning the media back to New Orleans today, he referred to poverty as "the great moral issue of our time."

The article goes on to say that he is in a good position to land a plum cabinet position in the next administration should a Democrat win. Attorney General Edwards, eh wot?

Of course, I'd be remiss if I didn't mention the obvious -- or at least what's obvious to me in the wake of Edwards' departure from the primary race, and that is this: whoever the Democrats choose to represent them in the 2008 Presidential election, that person will not be a white man. Taking nothing away from John-Edwards-the-candidate or John-Edwards-the-man, this will be an historic moment in the history of our country, and I'm going to be mighty happy to see it arrive. Edwards was a fine candidate and would have been a fine President, and yet -- there's a big part of me that looks forward to the campaign of either Senator Clinton or Senator Obama later this year and thinks, "it's about damn time." And yes, I do believe we're ready.

Cold Shoulder

2008-01-29T18:29:00.001-05:00

President Bush's last State of the Union address was last night. I actually listened to it for about three minutes before turning the channel. I know, I know: bad citizen. But I can't help it; the petulant tones of our Dry-Drunk-Cowboy-in-Chief just make me crazy. Unfortunately, the speech was being broadcast live on almost every channel, which greatly limited my viewing options. And yes, Celebrity Rehab with Dr. Drew was less irritating, thanks for asking. And isn't that just damning with faint praise?

But did y'all catch this?

According to the Associated Press:

Rival Democrats Hillary Rodham Clinton and Barack Obama came within a foot of each other just before President Bush's State of the Union speech Monday night and managed not to acknowledge each other, and certainly not touch.

Clinton, clad in scarlet, crossed the aisle between their seats on the House floor. Sen. Edward M. Kennedy, the Democratic icon who had endorsed Obama earlier in the day over Clinton, reached out his hand when she came close.

She took it; they shook. Meanwhile, Obama, dressed in a dark suit, had turned away.

The rivals then retreated to their seats, only the aisle and four senators between them.

Well, at least they made mention of what both of them were wearing.

Discuss.

My Own Personal Recession

2008-01-28T16:00:00.000-05:00

As an avid listener of NPR (well, "avid" might be a bit too strong; I listen to "Morning Edition" and "All Things Considered" during my commutes to and from the main office, but since that's about two hours a day four days a week, I'd say it's a regular habit -- anyhoo), I've been hearing a lot about the upcoming recession and lots of back-and-forth about whether or not we'll even experience a recession amid some frantic doomsdayers who believe that we could well be looking at another depression and a larger number of optimistic sorts who say it'll all blow over within a year.

These discussions are peppered with phrases like "Nikkei average" and "sub-prime mortgage crisis" and "spike in the Dow," and lots of other things I don't quite understand. The accompanying tune is, more often than not, is a slow acoustic version of "Stormy Weather" -- and unfortunately, that I understand just fine.

Another thing I understand all too keenly is that for the past few months, I personally have been scraping pennies together at the end of every month. First, there was the toilet that wouldn't stop running in October, for which I called the plumber. Ouch. Then, in November, the water bill came for October. Yee-owch. In December, the holidays conspired with a family of pigeons who were living in my attic thanks to a couple of panes of glass gone missing from the purely decorative windows that separate the crawlspace from the outside world. Zoinks, etc.

And while it's true that I got a big raise at work last September, that was also the month that the grace period on my student loans ran out and payments commenced. As luck would have it, those payments were exactly the size of my raise, and effectively cancelled out any dreams of increased financial comfort, at least until the fall of 2008, when I'll go through another performance appraisal on the way to, I hope, another raise -- tho' not likely as big a raise if the frantic doomsdayers are correct.

The other day, I received an automated message from Citigroup about that same student loan, so I called back, only to find out that -- while my automatic payments are being received each month, I'm consistently a month behind, and will essentially have to pay my student loan twice next month to catch myself up. Dammit, screwed for February as well.

So ... in an attempt to save money, I'm doing a few things. Firstly, friend Sallie and I avoided costly entertainment by spending most of the weekend on her couch watching many back-to-back episodes of Twin Peaks, which I purchased on pure impulse in the good old days, before my very own personal recession hit. In lieu of going out to dinner, we indulged in strong coffee and the occasional slice of blueberry pie a la mode. Oh, and wine. Wine is not a recurring theme in Twin Peaks the way that coffee and pie are, but after a few glasses, we felt good about this particular choice.

Secondly and most importantly, I'm getting that mermaid off my back -- that's right, kids: I'm kicking the Starbucks habit. I can have all the free coffee I want at work, and I'll just have to bring in my own ridiculously flavored non-dairy what-the-hell-is-this-$#!t-made-of creamy concoctions into work so that my morning cup of joe still tastes like candy. But that'll save my about $7.00 a day, four times a week, right there. And that's at least a hundred bucks total. It's scary to think that I currently spend that on dessert-for-breakfast. However, I reserve the right to visit my favorite independently owned coffee shop in Capitol Hill whenever I want to, because hi -- that's a community thing. (And the barista boy who works on Sundays and Mondays is hella cute -- just sayin'.)

Finally, I need to start doing a little more cooking. I eat out a lot, and have decided that it's forgivable for me to spend more than the average bear on appetizers, entrees, and tips for the waitrons -- because this basically pays for my social life. Many opportunities to catch up and hang out with friends happens over a restaurant meal and dishes that someone else will wash, and that's okay. But my new rule is that I make all the meals that I eat by myself in front of the TV, no exceptions. No Chinese takeout, no trips to the Gyro market, no detours to Subway on the way home from work. I might even experiment with the Crock Pot at some point. The problem is, I'm scared to cook because, as I explained to The Hat over the weekend, I don't really like to do things if I don't believe that I'm really good at them the first time I try. Unfortunately, I know what really good cooking tastes like, and I'm fairly sure that I won't experience those results during my first ventures into serious cooking in the kitchen. At the same time, I'm almost forty years old, and it's about damn time I learned to make myself dinner.

At least until I get my next huge raise, and can afford my Singapore Rice Noodles again. Boy, those are tasty ...

A Search for Self

2008-01-26T12:01:00.000-05:00

So when Heath Ledger suddenly and tragically died, I went to my Netflix queue and looked him up. I knew that I hadn't seen all the movies in his repoirtoire, and felt as though my weird grief resulting from the death of a Hollywood celebrity (because I never do this) might be more understandable, even to myself, if I knew of whence I greived, y'know?

Yesterday, The Four Feathers arrived in my mailbox. I can't say it's the best movie I've ever seen, but Heath Ledger is fantastic in it. The film is based on a novel, and Heath plays the main character of Harry Haversham, a young soldier who pursues a military career by default as the son of a famous general. However, when his regiment is about to be sent to Africa where they're sure to see combat firsthand, he chickens out and resigns his commission.

As a result, he is given three white feathers, one from each of his best friends in the Army. The feathers are a mark of shame, a symbol of cowardice. When his bride-to-be hears of his resignation, she is afraid of her own reputation, potentially the wife of a coward and a deserter, and she pleads with him to go back. When he doesn't, she gives him a feather of her own. And suddenly, he is friendless.

I haven't given much away; this all happens within the first fifteen minutes or so of the film; the rest of the movie concerns his attempts at redemption. I watched some of the "Special Features" after the movie was over, and both the screenwriter and the director characterized the movie as a man's search for a sense of self. Shekhar Kapur, the film's director, spoke a bit about this idea of cowardice and courage. The most courageous thing one can do, he said, is to know who you are, and to search for the answer if it's not readily available to you (personally, I'd put that behind "being a director from India making a movie wherein all the heroes are British colonialists," but I see his point).

And that's a very profound thought, but isn't that what almost every other story ever told centers upon? People (or hobbits, if we're talking Lord of the Rings) who either undertake some sort of adventure or else find that life has somehow conspired against them, react in some strange way that startles even themselves, and learn more about themselves because of it? Or is that just the way that I see the world, navel-gazer that I am?

Seriously though, I think that navel-gazing gets a bad rap sometimes. Because when I think outside the world of narrative fiction, very few people in this world that I can see really take the time to get to know themselves. And rather than being a selfish and narcissistic pursuit, I think the quest for self-knowledge and self-awareness is really important. And yes, looking at your meaner tendencies takes some guts, but refusing to shed some light in the dark corners of your mind just allows the weeds that fester there room to grow.

These are the folks who say, "I can't possibly be homophobic; I have a gay friend," or "On account of the fact that I'm a woman and plenty oppressed myself, I can't really be held accountable for white privilege." And beyond the issues of social justice, these are the people who love to go out on the town and can't understand why anyone might enjoy a quiet night at home, or the people who plan every spare moment of their upcoming vacation three months in advance and can't understand why someone else might be a lot happier just letting life happen.

Because self-awareness doesn't just teach you about yourself; it also teaches you how unique you are -- and by extension, how other people might be different from you, how the way that you see the world and experience life isn't shared by every single person on the planet ... in other words, it makes you a lot less selfish and narcissistic.

I was actually inspired to scribble a few thoughts on this topic because of blogfriend Al ("blueAlto" on my blogroll), who just yesterday introduced me to yet another online personality quiz, but one that looks to be slightly more credible than the standard "Which European city are you?" or "What 2004 Top 10 song are you?" (Amsterdam and "100 Years" by Five For Fighting, if you're wondering). This one is called Personal DNA, and it asks some really interesting questions, leading to a very interesting result.

As you can see, I'm a "Benevolent Creator," according to the instrument. "Wow," I thought, "I sound like God or something. This test is really good for the ego." But what it really says is that I enjoy the creative process, often put others before myself, and tend to believe people are generally good at their core. After they've done a little soul-searching, that is. If you scroll over the square, you'll see things like "High Extraversion" and "Slightly High Empathy." Of course, you'll also see things like High Femininity and Low Masculinity, and I have no f#%kin' idea what that's about.

So ... if you're game, take the test yourself and report back with what you learned.

Friday Jukebox, 01.25.08

2008-01-25T07:58:00.000-05:00

When I was in college, a housemate had this cassette tape (yes, I'm that old). The cover featured two women with straight blond hair. One looked directly and disarmingly into the camera and therefore right at me. The other's eyes were closed as her face was raised, as if being warmed by a hot California sun.

The band was called Lava Hay, as was the album. They were like a mash-up between Indigo Girls and Voice of the Beehive, with a pinch of The Mamas and the Papas tossed in for good measure. I listened to this tape a lot, and it quickly became part of the soundtrack of my college years.

When my housemate took his leave of the house we shared with two others, I was hoping that he wouldn't notice that the tape had been situated in my bedroom, in my stereo more often than not, for the better part of a year. He did notice, and politely asked for it back. After I graduated from college and situated myself in DC, I found a copy of the CD for sale on eBay and I was reunited with my sweetly singing guitar-strumming Canadian folk singers once again.

And now I must find it, because I want to listen on my way to work.

Let's Talk Oscar

2008-01-23T14:14:00.000-05:00

There's plenty of actual politics to discuss, but it all revolves around the fact that both Hillary Clinton and Barack Obama are currently behaving like @$$#0!es, so let's have another round of fake politics, eh wot?

Since publishing my personal take on the Year in Film, the honest-to-goodness Oscar nominations were announced.

It should surprise no one that I have ... opinions. These aren't predictions, per se, but rather how I would vote if I were one of the special and privileged few who submit Oscar ballots each year (which, by the way, thank Goddess that "the public" doesn't vote for Oscar winners, since elections decided upon by said "public" don't always turn out so good ... just sayin').

And away we go ...

Performance by an actor in a leading role
George Clooney in "Michael Clayton"
Daniel Day-Lewis in "There Will Be Blood"
Johnny Depp in "Sweeney Todd The Demon Barber of Fleet Street"
Tommy Lee Jones in "In the Valley of Elah"
Viggo Mortensen in "Eastern Promises"

My take: I'm a little surprised -- not unhappy, just surprised -- to see Tommy Lee Jones and Viggo Mortenson in the race. And yet, when I think about it, it hasn't been a banner year for men in leading roles this year. I guess I'm surprised that Denzel Washington isn't here for American Gangster and that James McAvoy didn't ride the Atonement wave, but that's neither here nor there. What's here and there is that Johnny Depp got a nod for Best Actor for his performance in a Sondheim musical, and that's good enough for me (hi, I'm a big 'mo). I vote Depp.

Performance by an actor in a supporting role
Casey Affleck in "The Assassination of Jesse James by the Coward Robert Ford"
Javier Bardem in "No Country for Old Men"
Philip Seymour Hoffman in "Charlie Wilson's War"
Hal Holbrook in "Into the Wild"
Tom Wilkinson in "Michael Clayton"

My take: I've not yet seen The Assassination of Jesse James by the Coward Robert Ford, but was so impressed with Affleck in Gone Baby Gone that I'd be tempted to simply throw a vote his way based on another movie entirely. Not that it would matter much -- previous award wins seem to indicate that Javier Bardem is a sure thing for playing the sociopathic killer in No Country for Old Men. And he was really good, but if I could vote for the Oscars, I'd probably never vote for the sure thing, just to be difficult. But even if I wasn't feeling peevish, the performance that I think is most deserving this year is Tom Wilkinson as a lawyer whose conscience catches up with him in Michael Clayton. He was scarily good in a difficult role and still allowed Clooney to carry the movie; in short, he did everything that the Best Supporting Actor should do. I vote Wilkinson.

Performance by an actress in a leading role
Cate Blanchett in "Elizabeth: The Golden Age"
Julie Christie in "Away from Her"
Marion Cotillard in "La Vie en Rose"
Laura Linney in "The Savages"
Ellen Page in "Juno"

My take: I'm honestly suprised that Cate Blanchett is here. Not that she's not brilliant in everything she does, but because the second Elizabeth movie was so disappointing to so many (I haven't seen it, so I'm talking about something I don't know anything about, which I believe only serves to solidify my credibility as a film critic -- meow). Besides, everyone knew she'd be nominated for I'm Not There, and she was. I have seen the other four performances in this category, and will be honestly thrilled for any of them to win. So, were I an Oscar voter, I'd have a difficult choice. Julie Christie was wonderful in Away From Her, but what I loved about her performance was her wise decision to underplay. I love Laura Linney in anything she does; her particular achievement in The Savages was to allow the audience to sympathize with a mostly unlikeable character, and she pulled it off brilliantly. Ellen Page was simply adorable in Juno, both wise-beyond-her-years and an honest-to-goodness in-over-her-head kid, at the same time. But the performance that absolutely blew me away this year for pure guts and glory was Marion Cotillard as Edith Piaf in La Vie en Rose. Taking nothing away from the other nominees in what I think is the most competitive category in the entire slate ... I vote Cotillard.

Performance by an actress in a supporting role
Cate Blanchett in "I'm Not There"
Ruby Dee in "American Gangster"
Saoirse Ronan in "Atonement"
Amy Ryan in "Gone Baby Gone"
Tilda Swinton in "Michael Clayton"

My take: I think Cate's going to win this one, only because performers who are nominated twice in one year usually take something home, and everything I've heard indicates that Cate Blanchett was predictably brilliant in The Golden Age, but absolutely breathtaking and transcendant as Bob Dylan in I'm Not There. Oscar also loves a good gender-bender if it's done right. But as I haven't seen either film (and have a penchant for being difficult), I'd probably go another way were I holding an Oscar ballot. Tilda Swinton was fantastic in Michael Clayton, but I think most folks were most impressed by a beautiful woman's willingness to look so unattractive in the film. "Hello," I'm thinking, "she's British" -- she has more sense than to be as hung up as we silly Americans about that kind of thing; she did what was best for the role and can always be beautiful on her own time -- and is. I loved Gone Baby Gone and am happy to see that a talented actor's career has taken a real boost from its success, but thought that Amy Ryan's character was a little one-note. Of the four performances I've seen, Saorise Ronan as the youngest "Briony" in Atonement is probably the most deserving, but sometimes you gotta just vote for the living legend who's never won an Oscar before just because she's there. Even though her entire performance in American Gangster hinges on one scene, it's a great scene and she acts the hell out of it. And given the entire career that has preceeded that one great scene, I vote Dee.

Best animated feature film of the year
"Persepolis": Marjane Satrapi and Vincent Paronnaud
"Ratatouille": Brad Bird
"Surf's Up": Ash Brannon and Chris Buck

My take: I'm torn. I haven't seen Persepolis yet, but want to -- I've read the graphic novel upon which it is based, and I absolutely love it. I've seen several previews, and think that the traditional (almost crude by today's standards) style of animation will serve the story (plucky young girl lives through Iran's Islamic Revolution) extremely well, and it would be nice to award an Animated Feature that does more than bells and whistles. On the other hand, the bells and whistles on display in Ratatouille are so much incredible fun, and this is the one category in which fun is traditionally allowed to be a critical factor. So, while I reserve the right to change my mind ... for now, I vote Ratatouille.

Achievement in directing
"The Diving Bell and the Butterfly" -- Julian Schnabel, director
"Juno" -- Jason Reitman, director
"Michael Clayton" -- Tony Gilroy, director
"No Country for Old Men" -- Joel Coen and Ethan Coen, directors
"There Will Be Blood" -- Paul Thomas Anderson, director

My take: I'd be tempted to boycott this entire category as punishment for excluding Tim Burton from the process. Stupid Oscar people. Can you write in a non-nominee in protest? If I could, that's what I'd do (again with the being difficult). But if not, I'd probably end up voting for the director who best served the story he/they were trying to tell while also integrating a unique point of view that was totally there but never got in the way. I vote Coen Brothers.

Achievement in music written for motion pictures (Original song)
"Falling Slowly" from "Once" -- Music and Lyric by Glen Hansard and: Marketa Irglova
"Happy Working Song" from "Enchanted" -- Music by Alan Menken; Lyric by Stephen Schwartz
"Raise It Up" from "August Rush" -- Nominees to be determined
"So Close" from "Enchanted" -- Music by Alan Menken; Lyric by Stephen Schwartz
"That's How You Know" from "Enchanted" -- Music by Alan Menken; Lyric by Stephen Schwartz

My take: The music in Enchanted was funny and charming, but nowhere near as affecting on a gut level as the songs written for Once, a little gem of a movie about two struggling musicians who should totally fall in love with each other. I vote Hansard and Irglova.

Adapted screenplay
"Atonement" -- Screenplay by Christopher Hampton
"Away from Her" -- Written by Sarah Polley
"The Diving Bell and the Butterfly" -- Screenplay by Ronald Harwood
"No Country for Old Men" -- Written for the screen by Joel Coen & Ethan Coen
"There Will Be Blood" -- Written for the screen by Paul Thomas Anderson

My take: A movie came out this year about a couple in their sixties. It was brilliantly adapted and directed by a woman who isn't even thirty yet. This is the easiest decision yet. I vote Polley, by a mile.

Original screenplay
"Juno" -- Written by Diablo Cody
"Lars and the Real Girl" -- Written by Nancy Oliver
"Michael Clayton" -- Written by Tony Gilroy
"Ratatouille" -- Screenplay by Brad Bird; Story by Jan Pinkava, Jim Capobianco, Brad Bird
"The Savages" -- Written by Tamara Jenkins

My take: The first thing I'd like to say about this entire category is that three films written by women are included here, and I think that's freakin' amazing. Seriously. I'm so loving that. Not to take anything away from Tony Gilroy or Brad Bird, who both wrote genius scripts, I get excited when women are nominated in the writing and directing categories, where they are historically so underrepresented. I haven't seen Lars and the Real Girl, so can't really comment -- heard it was great, though. I loved The Savages, particularly because I have one sister and no brothers and think that the brother-sister dynamic is one that should be explored a lot more and hardly ever is. The script for that movie also walked the line between funny and sad and sad and funny and never once went too far in either direction, which is a huge feat. But the script that blew me away this year was Diablo Cody's Juno -- on the one hand, full of quotable quotes ("That's one doodle that can't be undid, home skillet" -- c'mon that $#!t's funny) that are fun to repeat, and on the other hand remarkably human, featuring a dazzling array of vulnerable, sweet, pensive, sad, scared, frustrated, overwhelmed, romantic, practical humans throughout. I vote Diablo.

Best motion picture of the year
"Atonement" (Focus Features) A Working Title Production: Tim Bevan, Eric Fellner and Paul Webster, Producers
"Juno" (Fox Searchlight) A Dancing Elk Pictures, LLC Production: Lianne Halfon, Mason Novick and Russell Smith, Producers
"Michael Clayton" (Warner Bros.) A Clayton Productions, LLC Production: Sydney Pollack, Jennifer Fox and Kerry Orent, Producers
"No Country for Old Men" (Miramax and Paramount Vantage) A Scott Rudin/Mike Zoss Production: Scott Rudin, Ethan Coen and Joel Coen, Producers
"There Will Be Blood" (Paramount Vantage and Miramax) A JoAnne Sellar/Ghoulardi Film Company Production: JoAnne Sellar, Paul Thomas Anderson and Daniel Lupi, Producers

My take: Okay, so where the frak is Sweeney Todd? Seriously, people, WTF??!! This would be another case where I'd be forced to take several deep breaths before concentrating on the five stupid lousy undeserving movies that occupy a space on the list where Burton's Sweeney ought to be. Childish? Me? Really? But okay ... I haven't seen There Will Be Blood, but I hear that it's great, if entirely unpleasant. I can see that -- greatness and pleasantness aren't exactly the same thing, but I just wonder if any movie that is already difficult or painful to watch really needs to be three hours long. Just a question. Of the films that I have seen, I'd seriously love to see Juno win, mostly because I like it when a film wins on the basis of a sharp and funny script. But as much as I do love sharp and funny, I'm even a bigger sucker for ideas, questions without clear-cut answers, and the movies that give you lots to mull over in the days after you see it. So, for the biggest award of the night, I vote Atonement.

And there you have it. How much do you want to bet that none of the nominees I've picked actually walk up to the podium to pick up a little Golden Guy? Oh well.

So Long, Ennis

2008-01-22T20:40:00.000-05:00

I generally hate it when people fawn all over perfectly ordinary people for saying and doing perfectly ordinary things -- things that every person with both brain and heart should say and do.

And yet, I'm often guilty of this myself, especially when it comes to straight men who are either supportive of gay rights or conspicuously not weirded out by gay people. Unfairly, I expect straight women to either have or ferociously wish for gay male friends, and to lend moral and vocal support to the lesbians in their life as well -- sisterhood, and all that. But when a straight man drops a few crumbs my way -- a kind word, a friendly gesture, a "hey, whoever you dig, man, it's no big deal" -- he suddenly becomes my favorite person in the entire world.

Given all this, I suppose it makes some kind of sense that I'm utterly distraught and teary-eyed at the news that Heath Ledger was found dead today at the too-young age of 28.

Ledger, of course, is best known for his sensitive -- I'd say brilliant -- portrayal of Ennis Del Mar in Brokeback Mountain ... y'know, the gay cowboy movie. When he was cast in the movie, both he and co-star Jake Gyllenhaal were considered to be more matinee idol than serious actors, but both were nominated for Academy Awards for their performances in Ang Lee's tender tragedy.

Heath took some flak from the gay press for admitting that he was "nervous" when filming some of the love scenes in the film -- but all that was forgotten when people actually saw the movie. He was the picture of emotional and sexual repression, with occasional flashes of humanity and longing, and he seemed to be channelling the story of so many closeted gay men of a certain time and place.

Sitting in the dark theatre, watching a quiet cowboy hate himself for loving another and dying inside a little each day, we knew that he was a friend. The final line of the film is spoken by Ledger in a barely audible whisper: "Jack ... I swear ..." The film ends on an unfinished sentence. And now it looks as though his life has ended the same way. There's no telling what Heath Ledger might have accomplished had he not departed the world so soon.

I was really looking forward to seeing Ledger's reinterpretation of The Joker in this summer's new Batman movie, The Dark Knight. I'll still see the movie, but rather than thrilling at the inventiveness of a brilliant young artist, I'll spend my first viewing mourning the loss of someone I'd never met but greatly admired, a man who gave me and many others like me far more than crumbs.

Farewell, sweet prince; may angels sing thee to thy rest.

The Content of His Character

2008-01-21T18:34:00.000-05:00

Because we can't hear it often enough ...

I hope everyone who reads this is enjoying the holiday, but taking some time to reflect on all of the wonderful things that have been done, as well as all of the wonderful things that we have yet to do.

R.I.P., Dr. King.

For Your Consideration

2008-01-19T15:21:00.001-05:00

Oh, how I love this time of year, what with the endless campaigning and advertising, wooing of voters leading up to the all-important elections. It gives my democratic soul a tingle, that's what it does.

And no, this isn't another entry about Hillary Clinton (who just kicked ass in the Nevada caucuses, thanks very much) or Barack Obama or windbag pundits who are collectively perverting our government through corporate-sponsored mass manipulation. I've got no time for that this weekend. I've got bigger fish to fry. Watch out, kittens -- it's almost Oscar season!!

Of course, given the realities of the writers' strike, it's possible there won't even be an Oscar telecast, which is reason enough why there should be Federal Anti-Gay Hate Crimes Legislation -- but that shouldn't (or, in any case, won't) stop me from pontificating about all the Oscar bait movies I've seen and who I think should win what.

So ... alphabetically, then?

American Gangster: I liked this movie a lot; it was well made and featured decent performances from Russell and Denzel. Unfortunately, I think it got lost in the shuffle in what is turning out to be a fairly strong year for movies, and the only Oscar buzz I've been hearing is for Ruby Dee's supporting performance as Denzel's mother. I'd be tickled if Ruby were nominated, and even more so if she won. She is, after all, a living legend. However, if she gets an Oscar, it'll be on the basis of one crucial scene, wherein the doe-eyed aging Mama reveals that she isn't nearly as ignorant as she might have led her son (and the audience) to believe. It's an incredible scene, and ... it's one scene. (Read more about what I thought about this movie and Away from Her here)

The Assassination of Jesse James by the Coward Robert Ford: Haven't seen it yet, but it's in the Netflix queue. In any event, if they gave an Oscar to the movie with the awesomest title, I think this one should win.

Atonement: I just saw this last week, and I loved it. For those who haven't seen it yet, it's a much different film than the previews would lead you to believe. There's a love story in it, but it's not really a love story, and it takes place in World War II, but it doesn't have anything especially profound to say about that war, war in general, or the people who go to war. This is a movie about dishonestly, self-delusion, guilt and redemption. The main character of the piece is not portrayed by Keira Knightley or James McAvoy (the only two actors to appear above the credits in most of the posters I've seen, but rather jointly portrayed by Saoirse Ronan, Romola Garai, and Vannessa Redgrave at age 13, age 18, and later life, respectively. If I ran the world, the three of them would share a nomination for Best Actress in a Leading Role, but I'd be happy if either Ronan or Garai or both were nominated in the Supporting category (yes, Vannessa is brilliant, but she was on screen for less than ten minutes).

Away From Her: As soon as I saw this movie last month, I thought to myself, "Julie Christie just won another Oscar." And yet, Gordon Pinset is at least as deserving of an Oscar nod, since the story's really about him anyway -- but Julie gets the showier role, losing her mind to Alzheimer's and all that. Don't get me wrong, she gives a wonderful performance, but Oscar loves performances that center on disease, and there are more than a few Hollywood actresses who will think her incredibly "brave" for playing someone with a disease usually regarded as one that only strikes "old" women. Of course, the most remarkable thing about this movie is that it was made by another woman who hasn't even reached her thirtieth birthday yet. That's scary talented, right there. (Read more about what I thought about this movie and American Gangster here)

Charlie Wilson's War: Haven't seen it, but probably will eventually. And I'll probably love it, mostly because I have such low expectations. Honestly, a comedy about a covert war? Ew. That gives this peacenik lib'ral the heebie-jeebies. And I don't need to see Tom's butt. And Julia sounds like Shelby again, which just makes me want to hit something until it feels as bad as I do, I just want to hit something and hit it hard. (JP got that joke if no one else did.) I do love Philip Seymour Hoffman, tho' -- so I'll probably end up seeing it for him, and like I said, I'll probably love it and wonder why I was so reluctant to see it in the first place.

Eastern Promises: Viggo Mortenson is covered with muscles and tattoos and endures a bloody and violent fight scene completely in the nude. HELL YES, there should be Oscars! Oscars for everyone! Are you kiddin' me??!!

Elizabeth, The Golden Age: Didn't see it. Heard it was crap. Not that Cate is ever crap; she shines in everything she does. I'll probably rent it someday, but not until the fourth season of Project Runway is over and I need a fashion fix. Based on the photos I've seen, I predict an Oscar nomination for Best Costume Design. Next!

Enchanted: This was a really good movie, based on a brilliant premise. A Disney cartoon princess is sent by her nemesis, the evil witch disguised as a toothless hag, to a land of terror and confustion: modern-day Manhattan. She's followed there by her dashing prince and best friend (a chipmunk, naturally) and comes equipped with her ability to cajole rats and pigeons to do housecleaning and conjure Disney-fied orchestrations to accompany her whenever she sings. Unfortunately, Disney decided to go after the same kid/tween market that it targets their actual Princess line to, rather than the adults who would truly enjoy an edgier parody of the whole genre. I so wanted to see Princess Giselle throw down with a foul-mouthed hooker or mistaken by Carson Kressley as a drag queen, but this wasn't gonna happen in a PG-rated movie. Still, I expect an Oscar nomination (or two) in the Best Original Song category, although there's a possibility that Amy Adams (great here, but beyond brilliant in Junebug, for which she was also nominated) will be up for Best Actress.

Gone Baby Gone: I loved this movie. There's a gripping detective story in here, and lots of memorable characters and a fascinating ethical quandry to consider at the end of the movie. Amy Ryan will probably be nominated for Best Supporting Actress for her drugged-out single mother of a kidnapped child, but I would be thrilled to pieces if Ben Affleck were nominated as Best Director or if Casey Affleck got a Best Actor nod (although the buzz I've heard says he'd be more likely to get a nomination for Best Supporting Actor for The Assassination of Jesse James by the Coward Robert Ford ... hi, I just like saying that). I think this movie made money, but I have a feeling that not nearly enough people saw it. Put this one in your Netflix queue, folks.

In the Valley of Elah: I didn't see this one, but since no one else did either, I don't think I'm in much of a hurry.

Into the Wild: Sean Penn will probably get Oscar nominations for writing and directing this one. And y'know, good for him. The more Oscars he wins, the madder Bill O'Reilly gets, and I guess that's a good thing. But y'know what; I stand alone on this and am totally willing to face the barrage of rotten tomatoes that will surely follow, but ... I f#%kin' hated this movie. I knew I wouldn't like it going in, and I was right. I don't think this kid was a hero; he was a spoiled, selfish twerp who decided to live in an abandoned bus because surprise surprise, we live in a materialistic society and besides, everyone else in the world was too phony and awful to deal with. Whatever Penn saw in the book and was trying to teach me, I missed it. If Catherine Keener dies without putting an Oscar on her mantelpiece, there is no justice in this world, and yet -- I want her to win for a better movie than this one.

Juno: This movie is sick. And that's hipster disaffected teenage-speak for "really really good." I'll be surprised but delighted if Ellen Page is nominated for Best Actress. Surprised because she's young and above all else, Juno is a comedy -- but delighted because she really does hold this movie together and gives one of the most intelligent, vulnerable, and moving performances I've seen in a very long time. The sure thing nomination is for Diablo Cody in the Best Original Screenplay category. This movie is a treasure trove of quotable quotes and hilarious one-liners, but beyond that, the movie is faithful to its characters and the opposite of pat and predictable. Besides, how can you not nominate a former stripper named Diablo Cody. Sick.

La Vie en Rose: Marion Cotillard just won the Golden Globe for Best Actress in a Musical or Comedy for playing Edith Piaf from the ages of 20 to death. Piaf was only in her late forties when she died, but trust -- she looked like death, and only barely warmed over. I don't know much about Piaf, but I believe those who say that Cotillard absolutely channels her in this movie. It's a performance made of guts and steel, and every gay man's dream -- like a mash-up of Fanny Brice meets Judy Garland meets Leslie Caron. Comment très tragique mais suprêmement satisfaisant ... or something.

Michael Clayton: Do they give Oscars for hotness? If they did, George Clooney would win every year. As it is, I'm pulling for Tom Wilkinson for a Best Supporting Actor nod. I'd love to see Tilda Swinton in the mix as well, but again ... crowded category.

No Country for Old Men: Speaking of Best Supporting Actor, the buzz and previously announced film awards would indicate that Javier Bardem has basically already won this years Oscar for playing a sociopathic hired gun in the Coen Brothers' version of Cormac McCarthy's modern-day Western morality tale. In addition, I'm hoping that Joel and Ethan are nominated for Best Adapted Screenplay as well, and all because of that final scene between Bardem and Kelly McDonald, which was written to perfection. And if Sarah Polley isn't nominated in this category (and she probably won't be, because Hollywood is daft most times), I'll probably be rooting for them to win.

Ratatouille: I want this one to win for Best Animated Feature. I haven't seen Persepolis (although I want to -- I've read the first of the two books and loved it). If Persepolis is as wonderful as I think it will be, I'll be hoping it's the first cartoon to win Best Foreign Language Film, leaving the Animated Feature category open to Ratatouille. This is the best of the entire Pixar series. The comedy is outrageous, the plot is completely original, the voice work is hilarious, the action sequences are breathtaking, and the level of detail applied to the city of Paris is extraordinary. Brad Bird is a freakin' genius, end of story.

The Savages: Laura Linney was snubbed by the Golden Globes for her portrayal of an insecure playwright who is both disdainful of her abusive father and fiercely protective of him as he slowly loses his mind within the confines of a nursing home. Philip Seymour Hoffman, as her slightly more realistic (though not without foibles and flaws) brother, did get a nomination. These are two of my favorite actors ever, and I'd love to see them both nominated. And a nod to Tamara Jenkins for her screenplay would be lovely, too.

Sweeney Todd: Loved every disgusting, bloody minute. Loved it, loved it, loved it. I did miss "The Ballad of Sweeney Todd," although I respect Tim Burton's decision to focus on his main characters without a chorus of narrating streetpeople commenting throughout. Johnny Depp ... (I'll pause here while Cowbell regains her composure) ... just won a Golden Globe for his performance. And taking nothing away from Johnny, I thought that Helena Bonham Carter walked away with the movie. Admittedly, I have a weakness for the divas, but I just thought she acted the hell out of Mrs. Lovett, and her quirky, bird-like, vacant-yet-totally-there persona was just perfect for the role. If I were an Oscar voter, she'd be my pick.

There Will Be Blood: I'm planning on seeing this one in the theatres before the Oscar nominations are announced, even though the previews range from unappealing to downright appalling. Still, Daniel Day-Lewis is reportedly predictably brilliant. I was discussing this movie with my friend the Country Gurl last weekend, who astutely noted, "I don't think there are any women in that movie." Another kindred spirit with a yen for the divas, I thought. Well, at least I'm not the only one.

So anyway, that's the Year in Film according to the Red Seven. Who needs the freakin' Oscar telecast anyway?

(Don't all shout "Hallelujah" at once out there, people.)

Friday Jukebox, 01.18.08

2008-01-18T08:43:00.000-05:00

So I'm in a mellow and somewhat nostalgiac mood this Friday.

I remember when it was time for R.E.M. to follow up their album, "Automatic for the People," and they made all these statements that they were going to move away from all the commercial crap they'd been putting out and were going back to their indie rock roots.

Well, a decade and a half later, "Automatic for the People" is still my favorite R.E.M. album, and the follow-up ("Monster") is largely viewed as one of their worst. Anyhoo, this is my second favorite track from that album. I only have a vague idea of what Michael is singing about, but the lyrics still send me to a weirdly peaceful and happy place, and the orchestrations are gorgeous. Enjoy.

Wintry Mix

2008-01-17T20:34:00.000-05:00

As a series of sounds and conjurer of images, "Wintry Mix" has a very pleasing sound to it. I think I just like it because it sounds like a sort of yummy snack food involving Chex cereal and mint flavored M&M's.

Of course, anyone in the mid-Atlantic knows that "Wintry Mix" is a cutesy way of saying Worst.Weather.Ever. A combination of snow, sleet, rain, and freezing rain (is freezing rain the same as sleet? I think it might be) that immediately transforms every licensed motorist on the road into a student driver with a brand new learner's permit.

When I woke up this morning, it was chilly (hello? January) but the sun was shining in a big blue sky. It clouded up somewhere during my commute from Capitol Hill to Tysons Corner (if you're from the area, you know the hell of which I speak), and by 10:30, it was snowing. Not wintry mixing, but snowing -- big puffy flakes that looked like cotton balls, and it was lovely. The bare trees looked positively sugar-coated after the first fifteen minutes or so.

But the weather report was dire. The snow would transform into a "Wintry Mix" before three -- so, everyone in Tysons Corner hopped back in their cars and started driving home.

I shouldn't complain; I was scheduled to give a briefing on my goals and projected milestones for Fiscal Year 2009 today (did I sound all corporate American when I said that? I did, didn't I?), and I've been dreading it all week. Every one on my team had to do this today, and each person was supposed to talk for an hour. I was scheduled for 11:30, just as the weather was causing concern, so I proposed a high-level (there's the corporate-speak again), 15-minute version so we could all get the hell out of there and go home. My bosses agreed, and I sped through that thing like you wouldn't believe, and now it's done, this thing I've been dreading all week. Woo hoo for me!

I got home around 2:00, got back on the e-mail, and noticed there wasn't a lot of traffic, mostly because everyone I work with was probably also on the road at the time. But I kept myself busy with work-like (work-ish?) things until about 4:30, when I grabbed my kitty, moved to the bed, snuggled up, and totally crashed. Dead to the world for about two and a half hours, until the other kitty decided he was hungry and woke me up in a fit of starvation. At least there were no head butts involved this time.

So now, I'm in that weird place where I just woke up, but it's clearly evening, and I'll be going back to bed within the span of three or four hours (I hope), and I'm at once well-rested but sort of groggy at the same time, and if it hadn't been for the stupid "Wintry Mix" I'd be at a bar enjoying cocktails with a group of friends right now, but as the freezing rain (sleet, whatever) covers my windows with a thin sheet of ice, I'm oddly comforted by the fact that I'm home.

And now ... I shall have cold cereal for dinner. Because it's just that kind of day.

Early Lessons

2008-01-15T21:05:00.000-05:00

So, I haven't blogged since Friday (and let's be honest; I really haven't blogged since Thursday ... not that we don't loves us some Mary J).

And it's not that I don't have much to say; yesterday was pretty much like any other day; I had strong opinions about any "hot topic" you could throw my way. The thing is ... I'm beginning to distrust my take on things. Not that my worldview is falling to pieces or anything, but I'm experiencing a gentle reality check that says hello, I don't know everything.

Nevertheless, given the fact that two of my favorite bloggers have decided to take a break for a short time, I feel compelled to write something, just so poor Tater has something to read (I'm lookin' out for ya, buddy).

So I'm tempted to write about Senator Clinton and her unfortunate comments about Martin Luther King Jr. and civil rights. I don't think she meant it as a racist slam, but it sure came out that way -- and though it's my knee-jerk reaction to defend anyone who I've decided I'm supporting, I have a hard time defending what she said. If it walks like a duck, and talks like a duck ... does that mean that Hillary Clinton is a racist? I'll get back to that later.

I'm tempted to touch on some issues raised by The Hat over on her blog today, about the ways that children cope with heartache and abuse in ways that can be miraculous or tragic, and are often both. Because I've got some opinions about that as well.

Of course, when the chips are down, I can always gripe about the fact that I'm single. Because yes, I have some thoughts about that, too.

But in a way, all of these thoughts boil down to the same general thesis. Which I'll get to, eventually.

Yes, I think that Hillary Clinton is a racist. This might surprise you. But consider this: I think I'm a racist. Furthermore, I think that almost every white person in America is a racist. And if I think about it, most of the people of color in this country are racists, too. Racism is ingrained in just about every institution and organization in this country. All around us are subtle and not-so-subtle messages that suggest that white people are smarter, better, and more important than everyone else. We learn these lessons over and over and over. Hopefully, we grow up and realize, cognitively, that this total and utter crap -- but by then, it's too late. It's inside of us, and it's a slow-dying virus that requires constant medicine over a long period of time to beat. I haven't beat it yet. If I'm honest, I don't know anyone who has. And yes, I'll still vote for Hillary in the DC primary.

Over at The Voluptuary, The Hat announced today that she's taking a little break from blogging, but wrapped up this sad little announcement (not overly sad, in point of fact; I have her phone number) in a package of purely transcendent musings about what happens to sad kids when they are denied basics like food, security, and love. I couldn't do better than she did it herself, but I'll give you a sampling:

This is why those wild babies are so tragic, you know those kids that the FBI only seems to find trapped in their basement cages when it's too late and the parents have already ruined them? Perfectly fine little human beings that are made socially retarded because they simply were never held enough or talked to or shown proper love. Have you ever wondered why that is? It's because the triggers were never set off so the brain just worked around it. The brain will happily bypass the required neural pathways to speech and make a shit ton of pathways to, oh I dunno say, hearing. And that wild child with the tragic past can't form it's mouth to say anything beyond "buh", but it can hear a pin drop onto a pillow in the next room. That sort of thing. [...]

I have an endless hallway where a room of safety was meant to be. I have a brick wall put up where a sense of connection had been originally intended. I went hungry a lot as a child. Slept with books filled with images of food and fantasy. On and on I could relay these stories that suddenly make sense to me as an adult. But I won't. Because that's too off topic and what all of this is leading up to is that - I am a nutter because my brain at some point during those oh so important formative years said, "To hell with you neglectful, abusive people - I'm going over here to the imagination to set up camp instead". So I over-react to petty shit. I all-or-nothing myself to bits and bits. And I what-if myself to the point of indecision. Blah blah blah. Well pooh to that, I say. It's exhausting and I'm tired. And I'm going into all of this in my attempt to explain and justify myself to you all. Something that a higher functioning person would automatically know is entirely unnecessary but there you have it.

That's just a little bit o' Hat for you, but it's better if you read the whole thing.

And that's why Hat is a nutter. It's probably the same reason that all of us are nutters, if we care to admit it. And while there are always varying degrees of nutterness, we probably all have a touch of it -- because contrary to what my mother might tell you, there is no such thing as a perfect childhood.

My childhood was probably as close to perfect as it could have been. My parents loved me very much. Dad was less emotive than I might have wished, but never abusive. Mom was tougher than I might have liked, but I appreciate that toughness today. My sister was annoyingly perfect, but what can you do? And as wonderful as these people were and continue to be, I was a little gay boy growing up on a series of military bases. That's a recipe for some serious nutterdom right there. I accommodated this impossible situation by climbing into a dark cave of deep denial until the age of twenty-five. And while I deluded myself into believing that I was heterosexual, in practice I was asexual. All of my friends were girls but I had no girlfriends, and was outwardly disdainful of the boys I now realize that I was attracted to. Didn't like 'em. Hated 'em, even. Unable to deal with the fact that my desire was other than it should have been, I protected myself by twisting and bending it until it looked something like utter loathing. I would literally recoil at the sight of a cute boy. And I wonder today why I'm still single.

So ... old habits are hard to break. It's not the most groundbreaking thesis in the world, but there it is. It might be more lofty to say that the lessons we learn earliest stick around the longest. If you learn that white people are smarter, better, and more important than anyone else at an age when you're not prepared to question or contradict it, it's going to be difficult to shake off. If you learn not to expect comfort or nurturing from the big people that surround you, you get into the habit of providing for yourself. And if you learn to cope by fusing desire with derision as a young boy, it's awfully hard to allow yourself to fall in love with anyone when you grow up.